Chapter 20 #3
Rachel pulled back and looked at my face, her eyes bright with anger now. “Where is she?” she demanded.
“My mom?” I croaked.
“Yes,” Rachel said, jaw clenched. “Where is she. Because I’m going to—”
“Downstairs,” Jake said flatly. “With Edward.”
Rachel’s expression sharpened. “Edward?”
I flinched. “Mr. Standish,” I corrected automatically, then swallowed. “He said… I can call him Eddie or Edward now.”
Rachel stared at me like she didn’t understand the language I was speaking.
“Oh, that’s cute.” Bubba’s mouth curled in something vicious.
Jake muttered, “It’s insane.”
My stomach twisted again.
Rachel looked at me, eyes softening. “Do you want to talk to her?” she asked.
The question landed like a stone.
Did I?
I pictured my mother’s smile. The ring. The way she’d tried to hug me like she hadn’t just stolen my life out from under me. The way she’d said you know how Frankie gets when things are stressful.
Like I was a problem to manage.
My hands clenched.
“No,” I said, and my voice surprised me with how steady it sounded. “Not right now.”
“Okay. Then you don’t.” Rachel nodded immediately, looping her arm through mine as we faced the boys.
Bubba looked like he wanted to argue with the universe, but he kept his eyes on me. “What do you need?” he asked, softer now.
I stared at the trays of food then at Tabby sprawled on the couch like we’d always lived here.
Tory lay wrapped around Bubba’s neck like a fur, her tail thrashing now and then.
The soft white of her coat a perfect compliment to his golden skin and blond hair.
Then Tiddles who was in the middle of cleaning his leg and gave me a dour look.
Right, he didn’t want anyone staring at him while he bathed.
The thought almost made a nervous giggle escape.
Instead of giving in to that mild bit of hysteria, I studied Jake’s rigid posture and the way Bubba’s hands clenched.
Next to me, Rachel was just as still, just as fierce, like she held everything about herself in check.
Somewhere out in the house, Archie was waging war and defense on my behalf. It was why he hadn’t come back yet. Well, that and letting Rachel in. Even Mathieu was asking me what I needed and ready to jump in. The fact was, what I needed wasn’t a thing at all.
It was time.
“I need to sleep,” I whispered, voice breaking again. “I just… I need everything to stop.”
Rachel’s expression softened instantly. “Okay. We can do that.”
Jake’s shoulders loosened a fraction like he’d been holding his breath.
Bubba nodded once, sharp, decisive. “Done.”
The door opened again. Archie stepped back in.
His eyes swept the room—took in Bubba, Rachel, me, the cats—and something in his face eased, like he’d been bracing for worse.
Then his gaze landed on me.
“Hey,” he said quietly.
I blinked at him. “Hey.”
He hesitated, then moved closer, stopping just short of the couch like he was giving me the choice to invite him in.
“You don’t have to see them tonight,” he said.
“I don’t want to,” I admitted.
His jaw tightened. “Good.”
Bubba’s eyes narrowed slightly, like he didn’t love Archie’s tone, but he didn’t interrupt.
Archie’s gaze stayed on me. “Jeremy’s keeping them out of my wing—our wing,” he continued. “They’re not coming up here. Not unless you say so.”
A knot in my chest loosened a little.
“Okay,” I whispered.
“Can you eat? Even a few bites?” The softer coax in his voice asked me to try but he wouldn’t push. The last was so not Archie it told me more than anything else that he was worried.
“I can try,” I offered. In short order, everyone rearranged and Rachel settled hip to hip with me on the same coach cushion. The guys ate—there was something about the fact they tore through their food that helped to ease me—and I began to eat in small bites. Each one made my stomach growl.
Still, I wasn’t certain I could eat all of it, so I made Rachel share with me. Her nose wrinkled but when I said I wouldn’t eat if she wouldn’t, she’d just rolled her eyes and said she’d finish what I didn’t.
At about halfway through, my stomach protested another bite, so I nudged the plate to her and she finished it off. The guys had sat quietly, watching us or each other or the cats. It was the tensest, most relaxed we’d been since this whole thing began.
When Rachel finished, however, Archie rose like he’d just been waiting. Turning to me, Archie asked, “Do you want the butterfly room?”
The mention of it—of him remembering that detail—hit me again. Jeremy had chosen it for me, and I really did love the room. So, I nodded.
Rachel squeezed my hand. “I’ll go with you,” she said immediately.
Bubba straightened. “I’ll stay here,” he said, eyes cutting toward the door, like he was volunteering to be the bouncer.
Jake stood too. “Me too.”
Not arguing, Archie led the way to the door, and the cats—because they were apparently my emotional support entourage—followed like a tiny parade along with me and Rachel.
My phone buzzed again on the way down the hall. We passed Archie’s bedroom on the way to the butterfly room.
Somewhere behind me, Bubba’s low voice drifted out—controlled, dangerous—saying something I couldn’t make out.
Then Jake’s, sharp as broken glass.
At the door to the butterfly room, Archie opened it and the cats raced inside, like they were in a mad dash to claim their new space.
A pair of lamps were on framing the queen-sized bed in the middle.
There were a dozen items on the desk that belonged to me, including one of the framed photos I’d been missing.
A huge walk-in closet was open and a light on in there to show my clothes were all hung neatly.
I barely had enough to even fill one rack in there.
A couple of easy chairs were in the corner and the cats’ soft blankets lay over them.
Tiddles had already claimed one while Tabby leapt onto the middle of the bed like she’d found her throne.
Archie didn’t follow Rachel and me inside, he just stood in the open doorway. “Just down the hall if you need anything. You don’t even have to open the door, just text me.”
I didn’t know what to do with that either except when he went to leave, I raised a hand. “Archie?”
“Yeah, babe?”
A half-laugh escaped me. “Thanks.”
“Anytime.” Then he smiled for real. “I love ripping people new assholes, especially when they deserve it. I will cheerfully eviscerate them and keep them away from you for as long as you need or want it.”
“Same,” Rachel volunteered and Archie nodded to her in the first show of allyship I’d ever seen from the pair of them. “We got this, Frankie.”
“We do.” Then Archie flicked his gaze back to me. “Try to sleep. If you can’t, we can always camp out in the game room and watch movies.”
I blinked back the sudden flood of tears, but Archie just closed the door behind him, leaving me and Rachel alone. Exhaustion beat at me as I sank down on the edge of the bed.
Tugging my phone out of my pocket, I blew out a breath. Rachel was exploring the room—no, she was grabbing me a clean t-shirt and sleep shorts from the closet. I couldn’t even really think about getting ready for bed yet.
That was—surreal.
One missed call stared up at me from the phone.
From Coop.
A text, right after.
Coop:
Where are you
No punctuation.
No are you okay.
Just where are you.
My heart stuttered.
Rachel sat beside me, close, steady. “What is it?”
I stared at the screen until my eyes blurred.
Then I typed back.
Me:
Archie’s. Cats are safe. I’m safe. Please don’t come angry.
The three dots appeared.
And stayed.
And stayed.
My stomach twisted.
Then his reply came through.
Coop:
I’m already outside.
Somewhere in the distance, the doorbell rang.